Chapter Text
Jean knew the bullet would hit her, that was a fact. But that's what she wanted, in the end: to be with her sister Sara in the eternal sleep guaranteed to people like them, in a grotesque and painful way. All she wanted was to be with her sister again; she felt everything was too heavy, too tiring. She knew she wasn't alone anymore, Peter was with her, Aunt May's words had touched her heart. Even so, all she wanted was to disappear.
"You have me." Peter's words echoed in her head. Like a reminder of everything she had lost and everything she could have had, things so heavy she couldn't even begin to fathom them.
The bullet grazed the glass shattering it, the memory was still vivid in her mind, she would die being comforted by sweet words and kind gestures; until she felt the push and saw Spider-man…no, it was Peter stepping in front of her.
"Peter!?" she yelled, looking him up and down, her power dissipating.
"I'm fine," he said, falling as she tried to catch him. "It's okay, I'm fine."
The pool of blood began to accumulate beneath him, like a waterfall. Jean crouched down and stared at him in fear; fear of losing everything again, fear of losing the only person who had shown her compassion after all this time, fear of losing Peter the same way she had lost her sister. She felt him slipping away like sand through her fingers; it was terrifying.
"Stay with me, please!" she cried, holding his hand. "Help! Someone help him!"
"You have to get out of here, Jean..." Peter said, spitting blood in the process. "Run..."
But Jean didn't move; she kept trying to stop the bleeding. She couldn't leave him there to die, especially when it should have been her in his place, it was supposed to be her, she was supposed to die, she should be dead.
With a swift movement, she felt herself being thrown to the ground and something gripping the back of her neck. She tried to use her powers, tried to jump, but nothing worked. Her face was almost in Peter's pool of blood, she tried to pull away but something...or rather, someone was holding her.
"Look what you did." Bill said, with scorn in his voice, "Well, at least you saved me a lot of trouble getting rid of that spider."
"Let her go." Peter said, trying to move, trying to shoot webs, but nothing seemed to work. Jean felt her stomach churn.
"Let me go!" she struggled in vain, getting covered in Peter's blood. "I didn't do anything, it's all your fault, you son of a bitch!"
"Well, we'll have to move you to another facility, but that's the least of our worries," he said, pulling her up to her feet. "Let's go."
She was pulled out of the building, completly covered in blood; the last thing she saw were Peter's eyes, empty, looking at her with pain, sadness, and above all, guilt. She struggled again, in vain. Bill stuck a tranquilizer dart in her neck at the first opportunity he had. The last thing she saw was Peter lying on the ground while she screamed for help as she begged for him not to die.